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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643103">all things grow, all things grow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual'>badritual</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Season 15 Supernatural Codas [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Don't copy to another site, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Gardens &amp; Gardening, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Reunions, canon? i don't know her, i love that this is a canonical tag, technically canon compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:26:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>After he helps get Sam settled in to wait for Eileen, Dean decides he’s gonna take up gardening.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester (Implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Season 15 Supernatural Codas [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all things grow, all things grow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is probably not my best work but i needed to write something after *gestures vaguely* all that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After he helps get Sam settled in to wait for Eileen, Dean decides he’s gonna take up gardening. </p><p>He’s never planted anything in the ground but the bodies of friends, loved ones. He doesn’t know if he can even make anything grow—or if it’s even possible in a place like this—but he’s damn well gonna try. </p><p>Dean thinks, <i>I need seeds, gloves, a shovel, I need a watering can</i> and when he turns around, he finds all of those things waiting for him on the bar. He meanders over and picks up the gloves, turning them over to find they even have a price tag on them. It’s almost too easy, but he doesn’t mind it. Not really. His life had never been easy; he deserves this, now. Easy. Simple. Peaceful.</p><p>There’s a patch of soil out back that’s perfect for a garden. It’d also be a good place to summon a crossroads demon, he thinks. Which is weird. He supposes he’s still adjusting to being dead, to being in Heaven. </p><p>Dean digs the spade in the dirt, making a cradle of the earth for his seeds. He plants them and covers them up, and then he waters them with the little watering can he’d found on the bar earlier. </p><p>He wonders what they’ll bloom into. Will they be flowers? Grass? Fruits and vegetables? Maybe he should have specified. Maybe it doesn’t matter.</p><p>Dean tugs off his gloves and tucks them in his back pocket. He swipes beads of sweat off his forehead. The sun beats down against the back of his neck, and it almost feels real. </p><p>It’s almost perfect. There’s just something—</p><p>“Mary, Mary, quite contrary,” a familiar voice singsongs playfully behind his shoulder. “Tell me, how does your garden grow?”</p><p>Dean shoves to his feet and turns. Cas beams at him, radiant and golden, in a freshly pressed trench coat. His striped tie is loose around his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. </p><p>“Cas.” Dean’s voice is rusty, as if from disuse, and he remembers what Bobby told him. About how time moves differently Here. He wonders… “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”</p><p>“I missed you,” Cas says, wandering closer. He moves slowly, as if he’s expecting Dean to stop him. </p><p>Dean reaches out, fingers sliding into the lapels of his coat. “You asshole,” he says, tugging him closer. “Where’ve you been?”</p><p>“Making my way back to you,” Cas says, simply. He smiles, blue eyes crinkling. Dean feels his hands stroking on his back, in slow circles. </p><p>“How’d you…” Dean trails off.</p><p>“Jack got me out,” he says, letting his hands come to rest over Dean’s shoulder blades. Where, if he were an angel, he might have wings. “There was work to be done.”</p><p>“And now?” Dean asks.</p><p>“I can rest,” Cas says, leaning in closer, his breath feathering over the corner of Dean’s mouth. Almost close enough, but still not quite. He hesitates just for a moment. “We both can. If you want.”</p><p>Dean is the one who completes their journey, sealing his mouth against Cas’s. Cas’s mouth is hot and urgent, the taste of desperation—all those near misses, words left unsaid, lingering looks that went on a touch too long—exploding on his tongue. One of Cas’s hands ends up in his hair, fingers curling, tightening. The other ends up on Dean’s shoulder, where his handprint had once been. </p><p>When they finally come up for air, Dean takes a step back to hold Cas at arm’s length. He smiles back, head tilting in question. </p><p>Dean slides his hand down Cas’s arm to take his hand in his. Cas squeezes back before lacing their fingers together. </p><p>There’s so much Dean wants—needs—to say to him right now. So many words he’s kept buttoned up inside him threatening to burst out. Dean parts his lips to speak, but Cas cuts him short. </p><p>“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to—”</p><p>“Dammit, Cas. Let me speak,” Dean snaps, squeezing his hand hard. “I—I love you. You know that, right? I always have.”</p><p>The corners of Cas’s mouth curl in a small, fond smile. “I think I’ve always known,” he admits, his voice soft. Like a gentle breeze. “I didn’t have the words for it then. I thought of it as longing. Yearning. Not necessarily love. But I grew to understand what it was as I grew to understand myself.”</p><p>“You felt it?” Dean asks.</p><p>“I did,” Cas says, leaning in and giving Dean a gentle, almost careful kiss. “I heard your prayers and felt that familiar ache in your chest. But it doesn’t hurt to hear you say it.” He leans back, giving Dean a smug smile. “Say it again.”</p><p>Dean smiles back. He feels like he’s soaring now, amongst the clouds. Like his heart has wings. “I love you.”</p><p>Cas lifts Dean’s hand to press a kiss against his knuckles. “What happens now?” he asks, glancing down at their entwined fingers. He looks back up, blue eyes blazing with such a fierce, pure love that Dean feels something twist and crumble in his chest. </p><p>Dean leans in and presses a soft kiss against the corner of Cas’s mouth just so he can feel his lips twitch into a smile. “Whatever we want.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <span class="small">
    <span class="small">you came to take us<br/>all things go, all things go<br/>to recreate us<br/>all things grow, all things grow<br/>we had our mindset<br/>i made a lot of mistakes<br/>all things know, all things know<br/>i made a lot of mistakes<br/>you had to find it<br/>I made a lot of mistakes<br/>all things go, all things go<br/>i made a lot of mistakes<br/>— sufjan stevens - <b>chicago</b></span>
  </span>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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